


The Long Grift

by flibbertygigget



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Explanation of Timeless Children, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Death, Episode: s12e02 Spyfall Part 2, Episode: s12e05 Fugitive of the Judoon, Espionage, F/F, F/M, Gallifrey, Genocide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light Angst, Multi, Parallel Universes, Susan is the Timeless Child, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24957364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: "I don't like what you're wearing. Or the company you keep," the Doctor said. "I mean, Nazis. It seems low even for you." The Master gave her the same smug look he'd used at the Academy when he thought he'd done something terribly clever."Yes," he said. "It does, doesn't it?"In which the Master drops a hint, and the Doctor listens.
Relationships: Lee Clayton/The Doctor | Ruth Clayton, Susan Foreman/Bill Potts, The Doctor & Susan Foreman, The Doctor & The Master (Doctor Who), past The Doctor/Gat
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

The platform near the top of the Eiffel Tower swayed perilously in the wind. The Doctor didn't mind, of course. She'd fought Daleks and crashed spaceships over the course of her long life, so what was one slightly nausea-inducing human structure? The real problem, of course, was that it was bloody cold. Well, that and her old friend turned deadly enemy had gone well and truly over the line this time.

"I don't like what you're wearing. Or the company you keep," the Doctor said, her lip curling in distaste as she took in his uniform. "I mean, Nazis. It seems low even for you." The Master gave her the same smug look he'd used at the Academy when he thought he'd done something terribly clever.

"Yes," he said. "It does, doesn't it?" She stared at him a moment, then she shook her head.

"I'm assuming it was you who hijacked the MI-6 car." He grinned.

"That was fun."

"And assassinated C."

"Well, I  _ was _ the best shot in our class."

"The best shot in the Academy," the Doctor said automatically. "Why were those creatures assassinating spies?"

"Earth's intelligence services started to realize their presence."

"So, what, you brought them to Earth?"

"You're asking the wrong questions, Doctor. As a matter of fact, I didn't. They were already here. What I did do was give them a better plan."

"So who are they? What do they want?"

"Ah," the Master said, "now you're getting somewhere." The Doctor snorted.

"I'm more interested in your plan, actually. So you use Barton to create an artificial source of those creatures' energy, then what? What's your goal?"

"Why, to get your attention, my dear. We both know that threatening your pets is the best way to do  _ that _ ."

"The human race is not my pet."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," the Master said dismissively. "And, really, I'd be more concerned about what caused those 'creatures,' as you call them, to slip from a parallel universe into this dimension."

"I will not be lectured by you."

"Of course you won't. You never have." Both the Doctor and the Master turned as they began to hear the faint sound of footsteps running up the stairs.

"I believe that's my cue," the Master said. "But before I go, just one more thing. When did you last go home?" The Doctor felt her hearts stutter, thrown out of rhythm by the mixed longing and pain at the thought of her beautiful, imperfect homeworld.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"I took a trip home, to Gallifrey, hiding in its little bubble universe. Not sure how to describe what I found."

"What have you done?"

"Always so quick to point fingers. If you want to know so badly, then go yourself. Nothing is stopping you." The footsteps had finally reached the door. The Doctor quickly drew her screwdriver and locked it, but it wouldn't hold against a half dozen determined Nazis for long.

"We have to get out of here."

"Luckily, I have an escape route," the Master said. He grinned that familiar, predatory grin and brought a handheld telemat from his breast pocket. "Until we meet again, Doctor." With the press of a button he was gone. The Doctor snarled in frustration.

"Typical," she said before hauling herself over the railing surrounding the platform. It would be a long, cold climb down, but it was better than being caught and interrogated by Nazis.

* * *

Between the chaos of sabotaging the Silver Lady and saving her fam from the plane crash, the Doctor barely had time to consider the Master's enigmatic words atop the Eiffel Tower. When it was over, however, when the creatures had been exiled back where they had come from and taken the Master with them, the Doctor had time to think.

She had no obligation to him, not anymore. She didn't have to go running after him at a single word, cleaning up his messes and loving every moment of it. She had recognized that tone, the teasing charisma that urged her closer, the whip-smart mind that tore at the very fabric of reality and birthed it anew.

_ When did you last go home? _

She'd been avoiding going back, she knew that. There were too many memories, too many ghosts, too many nightmares of potentialities. And after seeing what Rassilon was willing to do and what Gallifrey was willing to permit, after the Time War and the confession dial, she hadn't wanted to stick around. She hadn't wanted to know.

_ Not sure how to describe what I found. _

He was right. She wanted to point a finger at him, to have whatever awaited her be his fault and his fault alone, but that would be too easy. She knew Gallifrey and she knew the Master. It felt like breaking faith all over again to admit which of them she trusted more.

Stars, she missed Missy!

_ If you want to know so badly, then go yourself. Nothing is stopping you. _

Nothing but her battered hearts and willful ignorance, of course. Rose had once said that she was someone who had the guts to do what was right, even when everyone else just ran away. The Doctor didn't know if she was that person anymore. Thinking that she had destroyed Gallifrey had, in a sick sort of way, made things easier. There was only her and the monsters, one and the same, with all the innocent planets to protect as she couldn't hers. Running would have only brought her back to the blank space where Gallifrey once had been.

But if Gallifrey was still there, ensconced safely in its bubble universe… Well, the last thing she wanted was to have to fight her people. She could argue, cajole, even work against them if the cause was great enough - and it had been, many times. But through it all she had managed to see them as on the side of the universe, not on the side of the monsters.

_ Not sure how to describe what I found. _

"Fine!" she snapped to herself, twisting the knobs and pulling the lever of her TARDIS. "Let's see what you found, old friend."

* * *

When she first caught sight of the ruined spires of the Capital, she thought that she was in a nightmare. Destroying Gallifrey may have meant pushing a button half a star system away, but in her mind it had been much more visceral. Even remembering how she had saved her planet couldn't stop her from seeing the echoes of what might have been.

She screwed her eyes shut and opened them again. Nope. Still there, still destroyed, but she could see signs of life now. A few vehicles transporting food through the countryside, a sky crane working on repairing one of the smaller spires. And, most interesting of all, a small delegation of high-ranking Time Lords moving across the plain in a sonic chariot, coming her way. She squinted, but she couldn't make out any faces that she recognized.

Not that recognition made much of a difference on Gallifrey.

She began to pick her way down to the base of the outcropping she'd landed on. By the time she reached the bottom, the sonic chariot had come to a stop maybe five meters away. The Time Lords had disembarked, and they were standing spookily still, waiting.

"Hi?" she called out. "Can I help you with something?"

"Doctor," said the woman at the head of the delegation. She was taller than the Doctor, with curly brown hair and piercing blue eyes, but the thing that made her familiar was the way her usually placid face was rent with relief and sorrow. "You came." The Doctor felt like air had been punched out of her lungs.

"Romana," she whispered, and then, louder, "Romana!"

"That's Vice President Romanadvoratrelundar to you." 

"Oh, you  _ didn't _ ," the Doctor said, her face scrunching up in disgust. “Who’s the President?”

"It would have been you, if you hadn’t left. As it is, Rassilon’s back in power, not that you would know. Fortunately, some of us don't throw our positions and our responsibilities away." But despite her words, Romana's gaze softened. "It's good to see you again, my friend. Still haven't fixed the Chameleon Circuit?"

"Eh, I've become attached to the police box. It's retro."

"How very human."

"Romana," the Doctor said, "what happened here? I mean, when I left everything was  _ fine _ ." Two of the Time Lords behind Romana gave each other significant looks, and the Doctor started to have a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Oh, don't tell me…"

"Doctor, we must once again ask for your help," Romana said. "The Time Lord who calls himself the Master has destroyed the Academy and all the knowledge contained therein. Worse, he has stolen the most precious secrets of our species, leaving Gallifrey vulnerable. "

"No," the Doctor said. "I don't understand; he wouldn't  _ do _ that."

"Would you really put it past him?"

"You don't understand, he  _ really _ wouldn't. He's an egomaniac who wants to control the universe on the best of days, but he's never wrought destruction for destruction's sake. He's not that kind of monster."

"Then explain what has happened here! Explain why he would take away our ability to move through time and space freely; explain why he would destroy the greatest center of learning the universe has ever seen." Romana sucked a deep breath through her nose. "Gallifrey needs you, Doctor. You are the only one to whom the Master might be willing to give a modicum of honesty." She looked at her, pleading, and the Doctor wished that the idea of being needed by Gallifrey wasn't half like ashes in her mouth. "Can I depend upon you, Doctor?"

"Only because it's you, Romana," the Doctor said with a sigh.

* * *

Finding the Master was simple, of course, far simpler than Romana could ever have expected. Use the TARDIS to retrace the path to the dimension where she'd banished them, enfold the Master in a pocket of space-time without bringing one of those creatures with him. Easy. What wasn't so easy was figuring out what she could possibly say to him.

He reappeared on the TARDIS floor, looking wide-eyed, off balance, almost scared. That dimension had hardly been pleasant, but she hadn't expected him to take it so hard. She pushed aside her guilt, reminding herself of what her former friend had done to her planet, the planet she had risked time itself to save.

"Alright," she said, looking down at him coldly, "start talking."

"You've been to Gallifrey, then?" he said.

"Yeah. Wasn't half pleased to see what you'd done."

"I had to. I had to make them pay for what I discovered. When you hear what I found, you'll want to destroy them, too."

"What did you find?"

"They lied to us, the founding fathers of Gallifrey," he said breathlessly, full of real, honest horror. "Everything we were told was a lie. You, me, our entire species was built on the lie of the Timeless Children." The Doctor crossed her arms, feeling a shiver of recognition, of  _ time  _ running through her. "You sense it, don't you? It's been buried deep, but it's still there, part of our perception of time. Part of our species' history, of its very identity."

"Alright," she said. "Tell me about the Timeless Children."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parallel universe time, woo!

It had been no surprise to any of them when the Deca were assigned to an elite Battle TARDIS almost immediately after their graduation. Four out of the five of them had been the pride of the Academy, their specializations interlocking and overlapping to create an impeccably designed war machine. Even the more conservative of the Time Lords would have to overlook their flouting of certain traditions in the interest of the Gallifreyan Empire.

Koschei, Mortimus, Ushas, Magnus, and Theta Sigma. The Master, the Monk, the Rani, the War Chief, and the Doctor. 

Koschei was their leader - their  _ ringleader _ some of their more annoyed teachers would have said - whose brilliance and vision orchestrated the proud sweep of the battles they fought. His title, the Master, was well chosen. Mortimus, the Monk, was the quietest of the Deca, a bookworm with an encyclopedic knowledge of both the esoteric magics of the Age of Chaos and the complicated art of time travel. Ushas was the only one of them to have not chosen her title, with the name of the Rani being written in the Scrolls of Gallifrey at the Dawn of Time. She was a brilliant scientist, specializing in the complicated methods used to twist and subdue the brain. Magnus, of all the Deca, was the best suited to war, both as a tactician and as a soldier. He was the one who took on the title of the War Chief, and even Koschei could barely hold him back when he became battle-drunk off the blood of Gallifrey's enemies.

After all these brilliant, if troublesome, students, Theta Sigma's inclusion in the Deca had always been something of a mystery to those outside it. He had lagged behind the others in their classes, preferring to run off after a discredited theory or a dead civilization than listen to what the Academy had to offer. He didn't have the physical prowess of Magnus or the raw charisma of Koschei. All he had, really, was a steadfast desire to do what was right in the service of Gallifrey and intermittent but utterly insane luck. Still, when there had been mutterings about sending him back to the Drylands a failure, Koschei had threatened to quit the Academy as well, putting all his prospects on the line for someone who could only ever have made a less than mediocre Time Lord.

Koschei had also been the first to call Theta Sigma the Doctor. No one outside of the Deca had ever bothered to ask why.

"You're the one who fixes things," Koschei told Theta Sigma when he'd finally gotten up the courage to ask, staring at the stars of some defeated planet. "Anyone can wage our war and bring galaxies to heel, but you're the only one of us who cares about what comes after."

"The High Council doesn't approve of it," Theta Sigma said.

"I don't care. One of these days the war will end, the universe will be one under the Gallifreyan Empire, and then the real work will begin. They might not see it, but it's true. Your day is coming, and I think," his voice lowered, as though the High Council might have ears even here, in the middle of nowhere, far outside their Battle TARDIS, "I think it is coming soon."

"Really?" Theta Sigma said. Koschei nodded.

"The vampires and the Racnoss have been defeated, and the other civilizations worthy of the name can't maintain an alliance for more than a few decades while the Empire measures time in centuries, millennia." He turned to face Theta fully, ironclad conviction shining in his eyes. "When the war is over, control will be handed over to those like you, who know how to build as well as destroy. For the glory of Gallifrey."

"For the glory of Gallifrey," the Doctor responded, but his mind was already far away. Koschei's belief had opened up new vistas. Though he had no way of knowing at the time, from that night forward his path was inexorably changed.

* * *

He was assigned to mate with Gat, who ran another elite Battle TARDIS. They met during each of her fertile periods until she became pregnant, and then after the birth they would return to their schedule. This continued until they had made all four of the children required for the glory of Gallifrey.

They broke off coldly but amicably. She had no desire to spend any more time away from the war, and they had never truly had any personal connection.

Though it was unorthodox, he stayed in distant contact with his children and passed news of them on to their mother. After the war was over, as Koschei had said, things were going to change, and Theta Sigma had the vague idea that Gallifrey would change too. In his personal life, at least, he could meet that.

* * *

The trouble started, really, on Rexel 4.

Or orbiting Rexel 4, rather. There was no need to land. The Carrionites had only managed to build a few ships and two planet-side Verne cannons before their planned rebellion had been uncovered and the Deca's Battle TARDIS sent to put it down. The ships had launched and been shot down by Magnus within a half a span, but the Verne cannons presented a larger issue. They could not be allowed to remain intact, but their locations were still hidden - and if the call from Gallifrey that Koschei was forced to take was any indication, the High Council wanted Rexel 4 done with quickly.

"I say we strafe the known rebel areas," Magnus said. "That's the only way to ensure that the cannons are destroyed, and it will make an example out of the Carrionites."

"A sonic blast would be more efficient," Ushas argued. "We could knock out their power without inviting more resentment from an already unstable sector."

"But then all they would need is a new source and they would have two weapons," Magnus shot back. "No, the only way to do this is-"

"Is irrelevant," Koschei said, stepping back into the console room. The rest of the Deca turned immediately towards him, waiting for his verdict. "The Council says burn it. Burn it to the ground." Magnus grinned, his eyes going dark at the promise of unrestrained battle lust. "We're to fly low and destroy the cities individually before razing the countryside."

"Perfect," Magnus said before bounding off to the weapons console. Mortimus began to impute the calculations for flying in-atmosphere, and though Ushas grumbled she went obediently to her station. Koschei turned to follow her, but Theta Sigma caught him by the elbow.

"What are you doing?" Theta Sigma said.

"I'm doing my job, as you should be."

"This isn't like you. This isn't your style."

"I have my orders, as do you.  _ Please _ , Theta."

"But a whole planet-"

"The High Council wants to make an example of them,” said Koschei. There was real empathy and regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough. “I understand your reluctance, Theta, I really do, but they have made their decision."

"There are twelve billion lives on that planet. Twelve  _ billion _ , and even the highest estimates only put the rebel numbers at a few thousand.”

“There’s nothing to be done,” Koschei said.

“You could call off the attack,” Theta Sigma shot back. “The Deca will listen to you, we always do. You know as well as I do that this is  _ wrong _ .”

“This is our duty. For the glory of Gallifrey. Now either go to your station or get out of the console room.” Theta Sigma’s jaw clenched, and the Doctor turned his heel and stormed out of the console room.

“What was that about?” Mortimus said. Ushas was trying to look like she was concentrating on her work, but even a fool could tell that she had been listening to the entire argument. Koschei sighed.

“It’s irrelevant,” he said. “Are those calculations ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Mortimus said.

“Then prepare for contact,” Koschei said, settling into his place at the center of the Battle TARDIS. “Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

For a time, it seemed that Rexel 4 was going to be the beginning and the end of it. The beginning of a trend, the end of the strange understanding that Koschei had always maintained with the Doctor. The High Council was growing more direct in their orders; the Gallifreyan Empire was growing more brutal in its methods. The lenience to decorum that Koschei had always shown disappeared, and the Master became harder, his moods darker and more volatile.

And then came Hermethica.

It was a long, hard battle to defeat the Wire. The native people of Hermethica had transferred their collective consciousness into a planet-wide computer backed up to the molten core, and it had only been through extensive physical and sonic bombings that the robot caretakers and the majority of the computer mainframe had been destroyed. Even if a backup still existed, there was no chance of the Wire crawling their way out of the rubble and into something that could be considered a civilization, much less a resistance.

Theta Sigma had argued, of course. It was a shame, he said, to lose all the knowledge of a species, even the secret to transcending bodies and preserving the mind in the form of a computer program. It was unnecessary, he said, to destroy so utterly a species which only wanted to maintain themselves and be left alone. Mortimus expressed lackluster agreement with the first point, Ushas slightly more gratifying, if still mild, agreement with the second. Koschei snapped and spat and told him to shut up, and Theta Sigma reluctantly agreed.

Until afterwards, when Koschei clamped a transmat bracelet around his wrist.

“What’s this?” Theta Sigma said, though he knew very well what it was. It would do Koschei good, he thought, to say it, to have to express out loud what he was doing.

“The transmat’s programmed to take you to Hermethica’s surface and back to the Battle TARDIS,” Koschei said. “I don’t know how much time you have. When we get orders from the High Council, I’ll order you back, but if I don’t… A week. You have a week, nothing more.”

“Why would you do this?”

“You were right. We could learn so much from the Wire. Thirteen regenerations would no longer constrain us.”

“Is that all I’m authorized to do?” There was nothing Koschei could do to stop the Doctor, and they both knew it. Still, there was a fiction to be maintained, for others’ benefit and for their own.

“Yes.” Koschei hesitated. “No. I don’t know. Follow your best judgement, I trust you on that.”  _ I trust you more than the High Council trusts me _ was the subtext there, but Theta Sigma wasn’t going to waste a moment on sympathy. “I’d prefer to prioritize the information, but…”

“But it’s my call, I know,” Theta Sigma said. He paused. “Thank you.”

“Don’t make me regret this.” 

“You know me.” The Doctor gave a cheery wave and pressed the outgoing button on the transmat. A moment of uncomfortable nonexistence later, and he was on the remains of Hermethica.

For a moment Theta Sigma just stared. It wasn’t as though he had never seen a ruined planet before. They had flown low plenty of times, and more often than not it was his hand on the trigger as the bombs and beams reduced proud buildings to rubble. But there was something more real about standing on the planet’s surface and looking  _ up _ . Up at the twisted skeletons of buildings, up at the half-destroyed robots that had serviced them, up at the dust-choked sky. It was the end times, and Theta had been one of the beings to bring it about.

“Well,” he said to himself, his voice echoing strangely in the emptiness, “nowhere to go but down.” If a backup of the Wire had survived their apocalypse, it wouldn’t be housed on the surface, where sonic bombs had destroyed the functions of any technology.

Going down was easier said than done, of course. The lifts and matrays that had transported the robots through the lower service corridors were non-functional, and many of the tunnels closer to the surface had caved in. It was slow going for a while, but as Theta Sigma worked his way downward the path slowly became clearer, the obstacles easier to conquer. 

Almost a hundred thousand miles below the planet's surface, Theta Sigma found his first sign of life.

Well, not life exactly, not blood and bone and flesh. Hermethica had been devoid of that even before the Time Lords had gotten to it. But the sonic screwdriver he had filched from the TARDIS began picking up something besides the gutted remains of a computer gone sonic, and Theta knew that could only be a good thing.

One more climb down a dead lift shaft later, and Theta Sigma found what he was looking for. It had taken him almost five sleepless days.

The problem then, of course, was how to deal with the backup that was all that remained of the Wire. When he had transported down, he had hoped to find a way to fix some of the computers and give the Wire a fighting chance. He knew now that that wasn't an option, that, as devastating and impressive looking as the physical bombings had been, the sonic bombing had been what truly rendered Hermethica a dead planet. Not an orphan planet, not yet, but give it a few hundred years and the small chance that remained for life would rust and fall apart.

So, data transfer to another planet it was.

The Doctor slept only a span before getting to work. He cooed and fawned over the thousands of zettabytes that held a species before apologizing and zipping them up. He zipped that up, too, over and over, hoping desperately that the process wouldn't compress their intelligences beyond recovery. The drive he had brought was only a few petabytes, and he didn't trust himself enough with the sonic screwdriver to attempt to recover more storage space from the mostly destroyed planet.

He returned to the Battle TARDIS with a few hours to spare. Koschei and Ushas looked concerned when he entered, clothing torn and dirty and body exhausted. He looked at them haughtily, daring them to comment.

"Well?" Koschei said, as though asking for a report from any other battle.

"Nothing there," Theta Sigma lied.

* * *

They went on like that for a while. Another fleet of ships blasted to pieces, another dead civilization. Every so often Koschei would allow Theta to go and recover what he could, and every time the Doctor lied and the Master pretended to believe him. They all pretended to believe him, some of them better than others.

Then Theta Sigma's eldest child messaged him twice in a week.

The first message was to tell him that she had given birth. He had been warmed by the fact that she had bothered to tell him at all and assured her that he wished to keep in contact with the child as well.

The second message was sent in panic.

"Father," she said, her hologram lined with static, "I am calling to ask for your help, though I am unsure what you can do. Yesterday evening, two envoys from the High Council came and took my daughter away. They would not tell me the reason, and I do not know where she has been taken or what they are doing with her. I received orders to return to the front an hour ago, and when I protested they seemed to think I was being somehow illogical. I know that you care about the child, even though you have never met her, and so I am begging you to do what you can to find out why she has been treated so irregularly."

The Doctor messaged her back immediately, though in text rather than holo.  _ Do not worry, my dear,  _ he wrote.  _ Our combined efforts will discover what has happened to the child, I promise. _

The promise, of course, was more easily made than fulfilled, but Theta Sigma was determined. He didn't care how many favors he had to call in or Time Lords he had to annoy; this was his granddaughter, his flesh and blood. True, having knowledge of her at all was frowned upon on Gallifrey, but he had never cared much for propriety. That lack of care, however, would make his mission that much more difficult. He wouldn't be able to do this alone, he knew that, and he also knew that there was only one other Time Lord he trusted with something this precious.

"No," Koschei said when he had played back his daughter's message and explained what he needed. "Are you insane? You shouldn't even have that!"

"It's not illegal," Theta Sigma said, pouting slightly. "Anyways, that's beside the point. A child, an infant has been stolen, and you are more concerned with the methods used to obtain this information."

"Theta, it's the High Council. We can't argue with them."

"Says who? I'll argue with whoever I damn well please, thank you very much."

"And that's just the problem," Koschei said. "You've been walking a thin line for a very long time. I've been covering for you, don't get me wrong, but the High Council isn't stupid. They've simply been biding their time, waiting for an opportunity to recall you."

"I don't see what's so bad-"

"Not - not just recall you. Some of the Council, so I've heard, has been talking of forced regeneration." Theta Sigma's eyes widened in shock. He had known that the High Council didn't like him, but he hadn't ever imagined this.

"But  _ why _ ?"

"Because you are incroyable, unbendable. They think that something's gone wrong with this body of yours."

"And what do you think?"

"I think that you're the Doctor. I think that what they'd be trying to kill would keep living on, that it's something in your soul." Theta's hearts skipped a beat. The soul was not something talked about among the Time Lords. It was generally acknowledged that something to that effect existed, of course, something immutable that did not change with regeneration as the mind and body did. But forced regeneration was the most common punishment for renegades and traitors, allowing them a clean slate on which to fight for the glory of Gallifrey, and the idea that something could render that consequence moot would be frightening to anyone.

Anyone, that is, who gave a damn about Gallifrey. Theta Sigma was having a bit of trouble with that at the moment.

"And if you're right? What would they do to me if my soul-"

"It's irrelevant," Koschei said coldly, "because it's not going to happen. You are going to stay here, and you are not going to go poking around into things which the High Council has not seen fit to reveal to us. Have I made myself clear?"

"But-"

"Have I made myself  _ clear _ , Theta Sigma?" Theta clutched his lapels and turned up his chin.

"Yes," he said, "I dare say you have, but I won't allow it. You are telling me to abandon my granddaughter and disappoint my daughter. Well, I won't have it. If you refuse to help me, I will simply have to do it myself."

"Little gods," Koschei muttered, running a hand through his hair and over his goatee. "You're a fool, Theta."

"No, I am simply very determined. That is my family, Koschei."

" _ We're  _ your family, Thete. Me and the Deca. You hardly even know  _ them _ ."

"Do you think that makes a difference? I care for them. Maybe caring for them is part of my soul as well. I won't ask you to help me any longer, not when I can see that your mind is made up, but I must insist that you not stop me."

"Damn you, Theta," Koschei sighed, sounding more resigned than anything else. "Fine, I'll help you find what caused them to take your granddaughter away, but that is  _ all _ . Understand? I have no desire to go against Gallifrey and the High Council."

"And I wouldn't ask you to," Theta Sigma said reassuringly, unaware of what threads time would take.

* * *

As it so happened, Theta Sigma didn't need Koschei to discover the cause of his granddaughter being taken. Ushas had overheard the end of their conversation, and after a few hours of debating with herself which course to take she had pulled Theta and Koschei to a discreet section of the Battle TARDIS.

"I shouldn't be telling you this," she said. "It was meant to be a secret, all of it. The High Council thought that our people wouldn't stand for it, though I have my doubts. I -  _ I _ stood for it, after all."

"Stood for what?" Theta Sigma said impatiently. Ushas looked anywhere but into his eyes.

"Did you ever wonder why the name of the Rani,  _ my _ name, was written in the Scrolls of Gallifrey?"

"They're the prophecies of Rassilon," Koschei said. "I always assumed that you were destined for something important."

"Not destined," Ushas said. "If I was destined, then I would still be on Gallifrey instead of here with you. The Scrolls of Gallifrey are the written account of the time stream the Rassilon saw when he first looked in the Untempered Schism at the Dawn of Time. They detail one thread, a thread in which this Gallifrey becomes an empire that spans not only all space, not only all time, but all universes as well. It was that last part, that last discovery that was supposed to belong to the Rani."

"So what changed?" said Theta. Ushas looked him in the eye at last, looking far older than he despite their similar ages. 

"I ran," said the Rani. “Or rather, I chose to sign up to fight on the front lines with you, because I could not find the secret to controlled travel between parallel universes from the Timeless Children, and I was afraid that the High Council would decide that a forced regeneration might create a version of the Rani that could." She took a deep breath. "That is where they have taken your granddaughter, Theta. She is one of the Timeless Children." Theta Sigma felt like he was going to be sick.

"I've got to get her back," he said. "I have to go and-"

"Calm down," Koschei ordered, and Theta Sigma's mouth snapped shut. Koschei turned to Ushas, who was staring at the floor again. "Who are the Timeless Children?"

"They are exactly what they sound like. They are born of the Time Lords, but though they can sense the threads of time as we can they are not part of it. Their paths cannot be sensed by the High Council, and they can do what they please to time with no concern for fixed points. They had the potential to be horribly dangerous for Gallifrey and for the universe. Properly studied, however…"

"Studied?" Theta Sigma ground out.

"They held the secrets to time travel and to regeneration. According to the Scrolls of Gallifrey, they hold the secret to travelling between universes." Ushas hesitated. "Some of the experiments were… unpleasant. After a while they would begin to deteriorate the bonds of reality and vanish. The High Council thought that they were slipping from this universe to another and if we could harness that energy… I have my doubts. It's just as likely that they gave up and decided to fade away."

"And you let that happen?" Theta Sigma snapped.

"I'm not proud of it," Ushas said defensively. "My role was written-"

"But it wasn't destiny," Theta said. "You had a choice, and those children - you could have done something."

"I'm not you, Theta," Ushas said coldly. "Oh, yes, I know that you've been trying to save those species doomed by the war. And I admire you, I truly do." It didn't sound like she admired him.

"Then help me save them."

"Them?" Koschei said. "Wait, I agreed to help you find what happened to your granddaughter. You never said anything about - well, whatever you have in mind, I have a feeling it will be completely foolish."

"Koschei, this is what you named me for," the Doctor said. "My purpose is to fix things, whatever form that might take. You knew that before even I did. I won't ask you to help me, but I would hope that you wouldn't try to prevent me." 

Koschei stared at him. Theta Sigma had always been a little too earnest, a little too insistent, a little too  _ him _ to be taken seriously. The Time Lord who stood in front of him now had none of those flaws. They had been replaced by a calm but firm assurance that the Doctor was  _ right _ , and Koschei knew that just in  _ looking _ at him he was risking being carried away.

"After the war is over," Koschei said, though the words sounded weak to his own ears. "Not now. You can't seriously think that you could change things now."

"Why not? And, more to the point, why not  _ try _ ?"

"If studying the Timeless Children helps us win the war-" Ushas began, but the Doctor shot her a withering look.

"They are children, some of them younger than we were when we went to the Academy no doubt. Do you even remember being a child, Ushas? I do. The war seemed quite far away then, as though nothing could touch us. But the Timeless Children don't have a time before the war touches them. They have been caught up in something they wanted no part in, and I have no intention of leaving them to their supposed destinies."

"But how? Do you even have a plan?" Koschei said.

"Not yet I don't, but I will, and when I do there will be nothing you can do to dissuade me, Koschei. Don't even bother trying."

"Fine," Koschei grumbled, half as though he was talking to himself. " _ Fine _ , I'll help you. But this had better be a damn good plan, Thete."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," the Doctor said, grinning at his old friend. "I have the best strategist in the Fleet on my side, after all."

* * *

The plan was supposed to be simple. Ushas had given them directions for how to find the rooms where the Timeless Children were being kept, along with her old access codes. Koschei and Theta Sigma would slip into the building, with Magnus on standby to provide air support if needed. The most difficult bit was the fact that transmat bracelets would be able to get them down to the surface of Gallifrey, but they would have to make it to a full transmat station to have a hope of getting all the children out. There was always the option of stealing a TARDIS and escaping that way, but that was definitely a worst case scenario. Stealing the children would be grounds for forced regeneration, but stealing a piece of war equipment as valuable as a TARDIS… well, full execution was the least of their worries. Internment in Shada or terms as gladiators in the Death Zone were inarguably worse and more likely fates.

Still, Koschei was confident, and if the Fleet’s greatest strategist was confident so was Theta Sigma.

At first, everything seemed to be going smoothly. They appeared in a public bathroom a few buildings from the scientific research center where the Timeless Children were kept. Theta Sigma may not have had the reputation to be allowed wherever he pleased, but Koschei was delighted to find that he most certainly did, even if that delight was mitigated by the fact that this was certainly going to throw a wrench in any other potential misuse of his station. Still, it served his ego.

Ushas’ codes got them into a lift that could take them to one of the highest levels of the center. Koschei occupied himself with reading the details of each floor from the lift screen, while Theta Sigma just thrummed with nerves and anticipation. He had never even seen his granddaughter, and now he was going to both see her and be able to  _ save  _ her, save her from the madness that Ushas had revealed, save her from the Time Lords. He didn’t know what he would do with her once he had found her, much less with the other children. No where in the universe would be safe for them.

“Koschei,” he said, “after we find them- I mean-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Koschei said. 

“But-”

“I have a plan.”

“Is it a plan I would disapprove of?” said Theta, frowning. Koschei grinned at him.

“Probably.” Theta Sigma was about to ask him what the hell the plan was then, but the lift ground to a halt and the doors opened. Koschei cautiously stepped out into the hallway, and Theta followed behind him. They went down past half a dozen doors, took a left, and then they found themselves outside the room Ushas had alluded to. 

Thirteen-Alpha, Quadrant C. The room of the Timeless Children. Koschei put in Ushas’ code, and the door slid open. Both the Time Lords stepped inside, and then they stopped. The room was dark, windowless, with dozens of hard standard-issue Fleet cots, but there were no children in them.

“Do you think they’re off eating,” Theta said, “or being - being experimented on?”

“Ushas didn’t say anything about them being allowed to eat outside this room,” Koschei said hesitantly. “And they wouldn’t be experimented on all at once.”

“Then where-” Near the back of the room, a piercing wail began, the sound of a miserable and abandoned infant. “Is that…?” Theta ran towards the noise, hope swelling in his chest. There, on the cot furthest from the door , was a child, no more than a few weeks old.

“Is that your granddaughter, Theta?” Koschei called out.

“I think so!” Theta Sigma said. “Koschei, come here. She’s wonderful-”

“Indeed she is,” said a voice, but it wasn’t Koschei. Out of the shadows that bathed the corners of the room came a Time Lord in a white lab coat. 

“Theta?” Koschei said. “Theta, what’s wrong?” Theta Sigma clutched the child to his chest, staring at the scientist in front of him.

“Who are you?” he said. “What have you done to the other children?”

“But surely you only really cared about the one,” the scientist said. “How about we make a deal? You take that one, and we can all forget that this ever happened.”

“I’m not stupid,” Theta Sigma said. 

“No?” said the scientist. “Pity. We’ll have to do this the hard way, I suppose.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Koschei had come up behind Theta Sigma, seeming strangely calm in spite of the situation. It was that calmness that made Theta Sigma relax slightly even as he prepared to take Koschei's orders at a moment's notice. The Time Lord looked faintly amused.

"Koschei, Koschei, Koschei," he said. "Don't tell me  _ you've _ been roped into this."

"Unfortunately for you, I have," Koschei said. "Now, where are the other children?"

"It would be better to ask  _ when _ they are. We kept that one here to ensure your compliance, but the others will never fall into your hands. Gallifrey will rise."

"Will it?" said the Master, eyes flashing. "I rather think it will fall." He brought his wrist com up to his mouth. "Magnus, now!" Before the Time Lord could do anything more than scream, the Master grabbed the collar of Theta's coat. "Run!"

They ran. They made it out of the room and down the hallway, but when they rounded the corner Theta froze in horror, arms tightening instinctively around the child in his arms. Outside the window was a war zone. Buildings were exploding, spires crumbling, sonic chariots falling from the sky. And flying low, reveling in the destruction, was their own Battle TARDIS.

"What the hell have you done?" the Doctor said.

"Far less than what they deserve," said the Master, a dark satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. The Doctor opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of racing footsteps set them running again. Koschei grabbed his arm, dragging him down a little-used service staircase. One level, two. Their and their pursuer's steps echoed behind them, pounding through the stairwell like a drum, like the frantic beating of twin hearts.

"Here!" Koschei said, and they burst through a door and into a wide room.

The TARDIS nursery. Theta Sigma had heard of it, of course he had, but he had never expected to find himself there. His first instinct was to poke around and discover  _ everything _ , but he held himself back, unsure of what sort of security might be in place and not wanting to find out. The Master, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly where he was going and what he was looking for. He brushed past the unfinished ships, half-grown from living metal. As they walked deeper into the nursery, the TARDISes became more complete, until there were some that only lacked the final software components that would allow their travels through time and space to be controlled. Koschei stopped outside of one, studied it, and seemed satisfied.

"This is where I leave you, I suppose," the Master said.

"What?" said the Doctor. "What do you mean?"

"It's flyable. Might be a bit of a trick with the software half missing, but I'm sure you'll adjust in time."

"Aren't you coming with me?"

"Theta, I called for the strafing of Gallifrey. They'll be out for blood. You need to get out and get somewhere safe, somewhere the High Council will never think to look. I'll take it from here."

"No," said the Doctor. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was going to be the traitor, and you were-"

"They hid the Timeless Children from us, Thete," the Master said. "Ushas may have doubted that it was necessary, but they were right to. I will  _ destroy _ them, destroy them for what they did to your granddaughter, destroy them for thinking they could torture and experiment on  _ our  _ people and get away with it."

"And what about those other worlds?" snapped the Doctor. "Where was your outrage then, Koschei, when you followed orders like an automaton and massacred civilizations to dust?" For the first time in their friendship, the Master looked uncertain.

"Maybe you're right," he said. "Maybe you're right, but I can't save them, and I don’t particularly care about them even now. Besides, it's done. All we can do is try our best to save our own." After a long moment of contemplation, the Doctor nodded and held out his hand. The Master drew him into a hug instead.

"Don't squish my granddaughter," the Doctor said. The Master chuckled.

"Go now. Save those lesser species you've always so inexplicably cared about. Together we will bring the Gallifreyan Empire to its knees." The Master activated his transmat and disappeared back into the Battle TARDIS. The whole building shuddered slightly, and the Doctor took one last look at the planet he had fought for so many years.

"Well, child," he muttered to the infant in his arms, "where to next?"

The Doctor fled, and Gallifrey burned.


	3. Chapter 3

The first time the Doctor regenerated, he had barely managed to get them into the TARDIS and flying through the Time Vortex before collapsing, overcome by his wounds and the effort it had taken to get Arkytior to safety. He came back changed, physically younger and softer somehow, with a personality more suited to being the sole guardian of an eleven-year-old Gallifreyan. She had been shaking, sobbing at the base of the console, and all he could do was try to comfort her and hope that his new softness wouldn’t get them killed when the Fleet inevitably found them again.

He had been barely 300.

It wasn’t unusual for a Time Lord to regenerate, of course. War was a risk, even with the finest weapons in the universe at their disposal. But even with the war, the Doctor knew that their spans were usually measured in millennia rather than centuries. He wondered if Koschei was still wearing his first face or if he had been caught and undergone forced regeneration. He wondered if it would always be like this, running and worrying and dying young. 

When he regenerated again at 333, waking to find a solemn-faced Arkytior guarding his recovering body with a sonic rifle in hand, he resigned himself to reaching the end of his time before 500. It would all be worth it, he reassured himself as he avoided his granddaughter’s worried glances. It would all be worth it if she was kept safe.

* * *

Arkytior’s first body, the one she had been born into, immediately brought to mind one of the many wide-eyed prey creatures that could be found across the universe. She was gentle and innocent and far too curious for her own good, no matter how the Doctor tried to discourage her from sticking her nose into places it didn’t belong. He recognized the irony, of course. He had practically made a habit of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, back when he was Theta Sigma. This was different, though. This was his granddaughter, and the destruction Gallifrey had wrought had nothing to do with her.

All too often, however, she asked the wrong right questions.

“Grandfather,” she had asked when she was seven, when he was still wearing his old, curmudgeonly, battle-worn face, “why can’t we pick a planet and stay for a while? Why are we always moving about?”

“We are being hunted by very bad people, child,” the Doctor had said. “They would hurt us if they caught us. But there is no need to worry,” for he’d seen the frightened look on her face, “I would never let any harm come to you.”

“Grandfather,” she had asked when she was sixteen and in the throes of what might have under different circumstances been teenage rebellion, “why are we always running? Even when we help a species stand and fight, we always run in the end."

"We cannot risk it, child," the Doctor had said. "You are a very special, very precious being," she was old enough that she rolled her eyes at this, "and I cannot risk them harming you. Nothing is worth that."

"Grandfather," she had asked when she was forty-two and had been forced to watch him regenerate once again, "why can't we find a place to hide, far away where they can never find us. I'm not stupid; I know that it's possible. Why do you always have to stay and fight?"

"I made a promise," the Doctor had said. Arkytior had looked at him curiously, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn't know if he had the strength to explain himself further. 

* * *

It was in his third body that the Doctor was once again called to that old fight.

He had been meddling, of course. He always meddled. A scientific secret divulged here, a destabilizing civil war quelled there. He knew it wasn’t enough to really stand against the course of the Gallifreyan Empire, but it was all he was willing to risk. Theta Sigma had made big talk about changing the universe, but the Doctor had more selfish things to worry about.

He was almost at peace with himself before Koschei made contact.

He was well into the second half of his 300s, this body proving more resilient than his second one. Arkytior had been guiding the TARDIS through the Vortex under his careful guidance when the com indicator began to blink.

“Grandfather, what is that?” Arkytior said, hand going towards it automatically. The Doctor grabbed her wrist.

“Ah - it is nothing, child, nothing at all,” he said. “At least, it is nothing that concerns either of us.”

“But I’ve never seen that indicator before.”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be distracted by it. Now pay attention, you’re going to scrape the edges of the Vortex again.” Arkytior sighed and adjusted the spin through the space-time dilation before suddenly slowing the TARDIS and engaging the parking brake. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to find out what’s going on,” she said, “ _ and _ what you're hiding from me."

"It's just a com, child," he said. Arkytior narrowed her eyes. "I promise, it's just - just a com."

"And who is trying to contact us?"

"Nobody, nobody at all."

"Then surely you would not mind me answering their call."

"Arkytior-" he growled, but she had already flipped the com switch. An unfamiliar face showed itself on the screen.

"Really, Theta,” the woman on the screen said, “is that any way to greet your old friend?”

For a moment the Doctor thought that one or both of his hearts had stopped. Though his old friend had regenerated since they had last met, there was no mistaking Koschei no matter what body she took. And this body was a she, with razor-sharp cheekbones and a strangely formal purple dress and a knowing smile gracing her lips.

“It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me that,” the Doctor said. “I missed you, Koschei.”

“Then why did you take so long to answer my calls?” Koschei said with a facetious pout. “And it’s Missy.”

“Missy?”

“Short for the Mistress. I’ve had an upgrade.”

“I can see that.” Arkytior looked between the two of them, looking equal parts baffled and delighted, and the Doctor felt a sudden pang in his chest. No one so young should look so delighted to see another living being. Her status as a Timeless Child had taken too much. “Why have you called me, Missy?”

“Can’t I just want to say hello to an old friend?” This regeneration seemed freer than the form he’d known in their Battle TARDIS days, less weighed down and separated from the world by the chains of command. The Doctor didn’t know quite what to make of it, but he hoped it was a good sign. Still, some things wouldn’t have changed.

“I’m not a fool. You’re risking a lot in contacting me.”

“You’re right, I am,” Missy said. “The truth is, Doctor, we’re in need of your medicine.”

“You know I’m not that kind of doctor.”

“Don’t you want to know what has happened to the Deca?” Another pang, more bitter this time. He did, but he knew he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear. “I think you’d be impressed with them, Doctor. They’ve exceeded even your expectations.”

“Just tell me, Missy,” the Doctor said. “I’m not interested in this song and dance.”

“Bet you’re not,” she said, apparently unable to keep from one last swipe at him, but then she finally got to the point the Doctor had been half dreading. “Mortimus went back to Gallifrey, of course. He was never on board with your revolution. Ushas was captured in a skirmish with a Battle TARDIS and sentenced to forced regeneration under the supervision of the Sisterhood of Karn. The Rani is experimenting with the Timeless Children again, I expect, just as it was written.”

“And Magnus?”

“He’s still with me.”

“After all this time?”

“Don’t get any ideas. He doesn’t care what side he’s on as long as he can satisfy his bloodlust, and I give him a great many opportunities. It’s difficult to pilot a Battle TARDIS with just the two of us, but we manage.”

“I do miss you, Koschei,” the Doctor said. “Please don’t doubt that.”

“I never did, darling,” Missy said. “Unfortunately, you won’t be able to run away any longer.” The Doctor opened his mouth to protest. “Don’t look at me like that, you know that you ran. For good reason, but you still ran, and I’ve seen little evidence of you sticking your nose into things. Who knew that you just needed a granddaughter to become the Time Lord you always ought to have been.”

“I have been trying,” the Doctor said defensively.

“And now I’m telling you that there’s a place where you are needed,” Missy shot back. “I have a plan, a plan that only you can help enact. The Theta Sigma I knew would never pass up a chance like this.”

“I haven’t been Theta Sigma in a long time.”

“No, you’ve been the Doctor, haven’t you?” Missy leaned forward, a smirk dancing on the edges of her lips. “Physician, heal thyself. You have work to do.” The Doctor shoved his misgivings to the back of his mind, glanced worriedly at Arkytior, and sighed.

“Very well,” he said. “Send along the mission specs.”

“Send along the mission specs  _ what _ ?” He groaned.

“Send along the mission specs, ma’am.” The smirk broke through into a fully-toothed grin.

“Yes, sir,” Missy said.

* * *

Missy’s mission turned out to be reconnaissance, so simple that the Doctor had to wonder why she had even called on him in the first place. Granted, it could have been a matter of simplicity, since the time-bubbled outpost was on the outskirts of the Gallifreyan Empire and required both a low profile and something of a deft touch, neither of which the Doctor was under the impression that this new version of his old friend had. Then again, he had changed with his regenerations as well. Theta Sigma would have lost patience with even the idea of reconnaissance and forced himself into the bigger picture with the confidence and subtlety of a physical bomb. The Doctor was more concerned with ensuring that Arkytior safely remained on the TARDIS.

After that the missions became more difficult, more complex. Missy had apparently decided to trust him in the way she had trusted Theta Sigma in their previous life, willing to overlook near-treason for the sake of both their visions of the world. And the Doctor was staring that vision in the face now, the vision that Missy had been far better at looking towards than he had, the vision that seemed so much further out of reach than when they had stared at the stars. And the Doctor found himself loving it in spite of the danger, Missy’s faith in the future they had once imagined together acting as a talisman against his own better judgement.

Of course, the relative simplicity couldn’t last. 

And iIt had to be when Arkytior had bullied her way into the mission. Of course it had to be then.

It was supposed to be a simple drop. Take the supplies and info through time and space, dodging the semi-omnipotent threads owned by the Gallifreyan Empire, and pass it along to the rebellion on Kelos. It was a simple task for someone like the Doctor, who had grown used to evading the Searchers who sought the Timeless Child in his care. That was why he only heaved an annoyed sigh when the TARDIS lurched, lost power, and nearly threw him off his feet when it ground to a halt.

“Grandfather!” Arkytior shouted.

“The auxiliary power will come on in a moment, child,” the Doctor said, picking himself up and dusting imaginary specks from his velvet greatcoat. True to his word, the round things hummed and began to glow at half-power a moment later. Arkytior was already at the console, flipping through the channels on the viewscreen.

“We left the Vortex somehow,” she said. “Hold on, if I can just recalibrate the chronometer-”

“We did not  _ leave _ ,” the Doctor said. “We were pulled.” 

“How long until the main power comes back on?” 

“If the damage is what I’m expecting it to be, it will take quite a while.” The Doctor cocked his head as a loud thump sounded outside the TARDIS door. Arkytior gasped and looked over at the entrance with wide eyes. She had been in many perilous situations in her short lifetime, they both had, but the TARDIS had always seemed almost sacred in its safety. “That would be the boarding party. Arkytior, do you have your blaster?”

“Right here, Grandfather.”

“Good. Be ready for my signal.” The Doctor stepped between the console and the entrance just as the lock of the TARDIS clicked and the door swung open.

The first thing the Doctor saw was the laser rifle. Larger and more powerful than Arkytior’s blaster, Gallifreyan Fleet standard and fully charged. Then he noticed the woman carrying it, her body identical to how he had last seen it, and he didn’t know what to think.

“Gat,” he said, “it’s been a long time.”

“Shut up,” Gat snapped. “You’re under arrest by the authority of the Gallifreyan Empire. Surrender or die.”

“This isn’t necessary, Gat,” the Doctor said. “If we could all just calm down-”

“Hands up.” The Doctor complied. “How do you know who I am?”

“Gat, you know me,” the Doctor said, “and I know you very, very well.” 

“Answer me now.”

“Gat, it’s me,” he said. “It’s Theta Sigma.” Her aim wavered, which was more than he had ever expected from Gat.”

“You’re joking,” she said. He raised an eyebrow. “Theta Sigma is dead.”

“Well, I do go by the Doctor nowadays, but I think you’ll find I’m very much alive. A few regenerations short, but very much alive.” Gat lowered her weapon slowly, looking as though she couldn’t quite believe the evidence in front of her.

“But the Mistress - When you weren’t reassigned, I could only assume-”

“That I was betrayed and murdered by my best friend? Nonsense. Koschei only turned against Gallifrey to help me - at least, that was her motivation at first. It’s gone far beyond that now, I believe.”

“I don’t understand,” Gat said, and though they had never been closer than necessity dictated the Doctor felt something like pity. On another, kinder Gallifrey, she would have been his wife.

“You don’t need to understand,” the Doctor said kindly. “Just go on your way. Pretend you never saw me, never heard of me. Forget.”

“You’re using a TARDIS for unauthorized purposes,” Gat argued. “I - It’s my duty, now, to arrest you.”

“I don’t want to fight you, Gat.”

“What could possibly have turned you against your planet, your people?” Gat said. “I  _ knew _ you, Theta. You were always strange, but you were still a Time Lord. Now…” She shook her head. “Now I don’t know  _ what _ you are.”

“I’m a renegade,” the Doctor said honestly.

“No,” Gat breathed, horrified. “No, that can’t be true.” Only a Gallifreyan could understand the weight of that word. Loyalty and obedience defined their species as surely as their time-sense, and to break with those traits was to forfeit the right to be called a Time Lord altogether. The word belonged to fairy tales, to the stories told to children to keep them out of trouble, to the monster under the bed. To claim it as a title, to wear that title with something like pride… it was impossible.

“Trust me,” the Doctor said. “I had very good reasons, the best reasons in the world.”

“I should shoot you where you stand,” Gat said, though she didn’t move her rifle. Arkytior, on the other hand, brought up her blaster.

“You’d never get a chance to disengage the safety,” she said coldly. The Doctor’s stomach churned. It was always disconcerting to have his usually bright and innocent granddaughter talk like that, though it happened more often than he would like. Nothing incited her ire more than someone threatening the Doctor, and with the new assignments from Missy it had become something of a habit.

“Who are you?” Gat said, seeming to notice Arkytior for the first time. “A lesser species? Another renegade?” The Doctor cleared his throat.

“Quite the opposite of a lesser species, my dear,” he said. “She’s our granddaughter.” Gat’s laser rifle clattered on the ground.

“That’s impossible,” she said. “And even - Even if - It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t  _ matter _ .”

“It matters to me,” the Doctor said. “It mattered to our daughter when she begged me to save her baby.” He’s painfully aware that Arkytior can hear every word, but Gat deserves honesty. She’ll probably go back to trying to arrest him when the shock dissipates, but she still deserves to know what Gallifrey almost stole. “Listen to me, Gat. Arkytior is our granddaughter, a Gallifreyan like any other, and she was almost experimented on because of an accident of birth, because she was  _ useful _ to the purposes of the Empire.”

“If she was useful, then she should have been proud to serve the glory of Gallifrey.”

“She was a child, an  _ infant _ . She didn’t have a choice.”

“If she was truly of Gallifrey, she wouldn’t need a choice. There wouldn’t  _ be _ a choice.”

“I did say I was a renegade,” the Doctor said. “When Ushas told us what would be done to her, Missy - Well, she became a renegade, and I followed her as I always have.”

“No,” Gat said, “you manipulated the greatest strategist in a hundred generations and bent her to your selfish whims. Now the Mistress is a wanted war criminal who has destroyed too many of Gallifrey’s plans, and you -  _ you _ are here, playing house, acting like some three-dimensional lesser being.” If she had been a different species, the Doctor knew that Gat would have spat on the ground. “You’re disgusting.”

“I thought you might understand,” he said, trying to hold back the deep sorrow that came without his permission. “She’s  _ ours _ , Gat, yours and mine. She’s our  _ blood _ -”

“She is nothing,” Gat said. The bits of genuine emotion, of horror, of hope, had disappeared from her face and voice, and all that was left was the cold certainty of a Time Lord. “What she might have been was lost when you decided to interfere.”

“Gat,  _ please _ . I’m giving you a chance to change things, to go against the injustice and horror of the Empire. Gallifrey can become better if we make it so.”  _ Get ready _ , he sent to Arkytior through their psychic link.  _ Plan 34b _ .

_ It’s your funeral, _ she sent back, then,  _ You do have a plan for surviving this, right? _

_ When have I ever not had a plan? _

“Gallifrey has mastered nearly all of space and time,” Gat said. She knelt down to pick up her laser rifle. “For the glory of Gallifrey.”

_ Now! _ the Doctor ordered. Arkytior twisted the last knob in the sequence, and the TARDIS dipped halfway into the Time Vortex. The entire ship lurched as Arkytior brought it out of sync with the Battle TARDIS that was attached for boarding. Gat’s TARDIS tore away from the door, and the Doctor clutched to the grating on the floor as the air was sucked into the depths of space and time. Gat was not so lucky. She screamed as she flew from the TARDIS, though it was more in anger than in fear. She had already brought out a return transmat and disappeared back to her own ship in the time it took the Doctor to close the TARDIS door.

“Excellent work, Arkytior,” he said. She ignored his praise, choosing instead to throw herself at him, enfolding him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Let’s not do 34b again,” she said.

“Very well, child,” the Doctor said, “the next time we are boarded, I shall endeavour to not save our lives.”

“You know what I mean,” Arkytior said. “If you’d gone-” He patted her head, the gesture an awkward remnant of those first eleven years in his most ill-fitting body for this task.

“But I didn’t,” he said. “Besides, you are more than capable of taking care of yourself now.” With a slightly painful lurch, he realized that it was true. She would have been old enough to have graduated the Academy now, old enough to have been given a position and a partner of her own. She was an adult by any Time Lord’s metric, and yet when he looked at her all he could see was the child he stole from a burning city. It made him feel far more than his 400 years.

“Grandfather,” Arkytior said, “there are some things you said to that - that woman, some things I didn’t understand.” The Doctor sighed.

“I was afraid you would ask about that,” he said. When Arkytior didn’t back down, instead staring up at him with those huge eyes, the Doctor broke away from her and sighed again. “It isn’t a pleasant story.”

“I need to know,” she said. “We’re always running, always fighting. I want to know why that is.”

“Very well,” the Doctor said, picking up the laser rifle that Gat had left behind. Later he would bring it to the armory, would examine and clean and set it up to charge, but that could wait. His granddaughter deserved an explanation. “I’ll make us both a cup of tea, and then I will tell you the whole story.” 

* * *

They first found the planet known locally as Earth completely by accident. It was an insignificant place, too primitive throughout its timethread to be of any interest to the Time Lords. In another universe (though the Doctor did not know this, not until much later), the inhabitants of said planet would eventually rise to a Level 9 civilization, only a step below Gallifrey - and partially due to his meddling. In this universe, however, it would never be much more than a relatively pleasant safe haven, a place to go when navigating the Vortex was too taxing or in between missions for Koschei’s rebellion.

Arkytior became a little more attached to the place, taking on a name from one of their many factions for a time. She would even take human lovers - a David from the 2150s, a Barbara from the 1960s. The Doctor did not begrudge her these foolish connections, but they never stayed long. To involve such a primitive species in their dangerous lives would be cruel; to involve such a short-lived species in more than a dalliance would be foolish. The Doctor was always careful to change their position in time before she became too… attached.

He should have known that it couldn’t last.

* * *

They were in 2017 when it all fell apart. Their mission, their family, the security of Earth. If the Doctor had been a lesser species, he might have attributed it to the wrath of an angry god.

Compared to the Level 5 planet, the Daleks might as well have been gods, albeit of the fire-and-brimstone sort.

The Doctor had fought against the Daleks before, of course. A warrior species and a Level 8 civilization, they had proven stubborn and almost impossible to wipe out even with the might of Gallifrey. Whenever they seemed to be finished at last, a few would escape using their primitive forms of time travel, preserving their species and their leader, Davros, until they found another planet to irradiate and turn into mutated clones like themselves. They had destroyed many Battle TARDISes and many Time Lords, and even though the Doctor hated Gallifrey and what they could justify in the name of progress he hated the Daleks more.

To make matters worse, when the Doctor was trying to hack into the Dalek ship using a combination of the TARDIS and the rudimentary computer systems of Earth, Susan found yet another human.

“She was hiding in the canteen, Grandfather,” she said after ducking into the library computer lab where the Doctor had set up his workstation. The human, a dark-skinned woman whose body looked to be around 30, was staring at the mess of cables that connected three of the human computers to the TARDIS mainframe.

“Secure the door!” the Doctor barked. “Really, child, must you be so foolish? Risking your body by dragging a human around-”

“Bill would’ve been killed by the Daleks,” Susan argued. The Doctor noted that this human, this  _ Bill _ , had jumped to help Susan move one of the tables to make the beginnings of a barricade. So, not the completely useless sort of human then. There was that at least.

“And I am endeavouring to save far more than one human, if you haven’t noticed,” the Doctor said. “A task that would have been made infinitely more difficult if I had to drag you around post-regeneration.”

“Excuse me,” Bill said, “is that a telephone box?”

“No, it’s a police box. Can’t you read?”

“Why’s there a police box in the library?”

“There isn’t,” the Doctor said. Finally,  _ finally _ the Dalek mainframe came up on the screens of the human computers. The press of a button transferred the display to the TARDIS, and the Doctor hurried inside. He couldn’t initiate the self-destruct right away, not with the ship so close to the planet. Extinction-level points in time had been caused by smaller objects. “Arkytior!”

“Coming, Grandfather,” said Arkytior with a sigh.

“Concentrate on the distance readings. I want to know precisely when the ship is far enough out of range to-”

“What is this place?” Bill said. The Doctor glared at her.

“Excuse me, I am attempting to save your entire planet. Now, once I’ve piloted the Dalek ship to the vicinity of Mars’ orbit, we will hopefully be able to blow them with minimal damage to this planet’s atmosphere.”

“You’re going to be blowing something up? With your…” Bill made a squiggly gesture around the console room.

“It’s a spaceship, do keep up.” 

“Dalek ship currently 1.3 million kilometres from Earth,” Arkytior said.

“That far? But there’s still those robots trying to break down the door.”

“We’re perfectly safe within the TARDIS,” the Doctor said.

“But anyone who’s out there is in danger.” 

“Bill,” Susan said softly, “one crisis at a time.”

“A half dozen Daleks is hardly a crisis, child. An inconvenience at worst.”

“They were killing people!”

“Yes, Daleks tend to do that.”

“Approximately 5 million kilometres,” Arkytior said.

“You- If you weren’t saving my planet right now, I’d punch you,” Bill said.

“He’s really not nearly as bad as he seems,” Arkytior said.

“What the devil is that supposed to mean?” the Doctor muttered, almost all his concentration fixed on preventing the Daleks from re-taking control. That was when they heard the knocking.

Really, knocking was an understatement. Someone was  _ banging _ on the door of the computer lab, screaming from them to let them in. The Doctor would have ignored the noise, but the human grabbed his arm.

“Aren’t you going to save them?”

“Young lady-”

“Don’t condescend to me.”

“Is it a particularly important human?”

“Is that all that matters to you - you sci-fi weirdos?”

“Grandfather,” Arkytior said, “ship is far enough away to self-destruct safely.”

“Excellent,” the Doctor said, returning to the console. A twist and a pull later and the Dalek ship was gone, blasted to so much interstellar space dust using their own self-destruct sequences. The Doctor hummed a bit of Shostakovich as he disconnected the human computers, mentally apologizing to the TARDIS for connecting her to such inferior machines.

“ _ Now _ are you going to save them?” Bill said. The Doctor heaved a sigh.

“Oh, very well,” he said. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been planning on stopping the last few Daleks who had now been stranded on Earth. Even if it was only a half-dozen of them, they would make far too much trouble on such a defenseless, backwards planet. Arkytior gave him a grateful grin as she went to the other side of the console, and he glared at her.

“Thank you, Grandfather,” she said innocently.

“Humph,” the Doctor said, twisting a knob just so. Piloting a TARDIS over such short distances was a tricky sort of business, but he knew his ship. She wouldn’t let him down when it was important. The moment the TARDIS ground to a halt, the Doctor bounded out of the door. He had landed right in the middle of the situation, naturally, and said situation consisted of six Daleks and one human who looked like he was about to punch them.

“Hello,” the Doctor said. “I believe you were looking for me.” All six of the Daleks turned their eye stalks to look at him, and he bared his teeth in an almost feral grin.

“YOU ARE A TIME LORD,” one of the Daleks said.

“Of course I’m a Time Lord,” said the Doctor, “and you all know what that means.”

“I don’t,” said the human.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the Doctor snapped. “It means,” he said, turning his attention back to the Daleks, “that you will very soon be facing several of my friends from the Gallifreyan fleet, and I don’t expect it will go well for you. Especially considering I just blew up your ship.”

“YOU HAVE NO FLEET,” the Dalek said. “WE HAVE SCANNED THE SECTOR.”

“Well, scans can be evaded,” the Doctor said.

“YOU ARE THE RENEGADE.”

“Okay, yeah,” said the Doctor. “I am the renegade. And I’m sure you’ve heard what happened the last time someone decided to cross me.”

“YOU ARE THE RENEGADE. YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED.”

“Now wait a minute-” the human said, raising his fists again.

“Shut up,” snapped the Doctor. 

“THE RENEGADE MUST BE EXTERMINATED.”

“Small issue there,” the Doctor said. “You see, I’m still within my TARDIS’s containment field. Which means-” One of the Daleks apparently got impatient with the situation and fired at him. The Doctor stood, impassively calm, as the shot ricocheted off the containment field and reduced the Dalek to a mess of melted metal and burning flesh. “Which means,” the Doctor continued, “that there is really very little you can do about it.”

“THE RENEGADE WILL BE EXTERMINATED.”

“Not a chance,” said the Doctor. “In fact,” Arkytior, always with an impeccable sense of dramatic timing, exited the TARDIS with the Gallifreyan laser rifle they had confiscated from Gat pointed squarely on the Dalek spokesperson, “I believe that it is your own extermination that is inevitable.” She blasted the other five Daleks with the military precision that the Doctor had drilled into her from the time she could hold a Zarbian plasma pistol in her tiny hands. In a matter of seconds it was over.

“What the devil was that?” said the human who the Daleks had cornered. The Doctor turned and got his first good look at the human. It was nothing impressive, just a man with greying hair and a denim shirt that said “Facilities Management” on the breast pocket. Still, there was evidently more to the human than met the eye. He had been ready to fistfight a Dalek, after all.

“Lee, are you alright?” said Bill as she stumbled out of the TARDIS.

“Bill?” the human evidently named Lee said. “You were in there? What’s going on?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” snapped the Doctor. “Come, Arkytior.” He opened the door of the TARDIS, but Arkytior wasn’t following. “Arkytior!”

“Grandfather, the Dalek ship would have left traces in the Time Vortex,” Arkytior said. 

“Yes, of course, now come along.”

“That means that the Gallifreyan Fleet-”

“Child, do you truly believe that I have not thought of that? That is why we have to be away.”

“And these humans will be targets,” his granddaughter said. 

“What are you talking about?” Lee said.

“What am I supposed to do about that?” the Doctor said to Arkytior, ignoring the human. “They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. If the Time Lords even bother with this planet, they will likely recognize it to be too primitive to be worth bothering with long-term. The best thing we can do for Earth is make it as inconspicuous as possible.”

“I’m not talking about the planet,” Arkytior said. “I’m talking about the humans, Grandfather, as you well know, and I think we ought to do something to help them.”

“Help us? We need help?” Bill said. 

“We could give them a bit of temporal distance at least,” Arkytior said. The Doctor sighed. He knew this look far too well, the set, slightly jutted out jaw telling him that his granddaughter wasn’t going to back down anytime soon.

“Very well,” he said. “But only a few years.”

“A few years - Hang on, is that a  _ time machine _ ?” Bill sounded oddly delighted. In his admittedly limited experience with humans, he would have expected incredulity or fear.

“Oh, it’s far more than just a time machine,” said Arkytior in a voice that was half prideful and half fond. This human was going to be an ongoing issue, he could just feel it. “Time, space, even dimensions, although that last is a bit tricky to do without ripping a hole in the fabric of reality. Anywhere you want to go, anywhen you want to go-”

“Might I remind you, child, that we are simply dropping the humans off to a time when the danger of them being found by the Gallifreyan Fleet has passed,” the Doctor said. “There will be no faffing about with locations. We have work to do.”

“Oh, come on, Grandfather,” said Arkytior. “One little trip won’t hurt, and we don’t have any orders from Missy.” She turned to Bill and gave the human a slightly giddy grin. “Come on, I’ll show you the TARDIS’s telepathic circuits.” She put a hand on Bill’s arm to guide her, not that Bill seemed reluctant to follow her. The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache that was threatening.

“Kids, huh,” said Lee sympathetically.

“You have no idea,” said the Doctor.


	4. Chapter 4

Somehow that one trip turned into two, which turned into more. The Doctor grumbled as Arkytior and Bill grew closer, grew more attached in a way that could only end in disaster. Humans were short-lived and fragile and had no business being on their TARDIS, but neither did he have the will to force them apart as he should. He had never seen Arkytior so happy, and it hurt to see how having someone closer to her own age brought her to life. He had saved her, but she would never be happy with his life, no matter how vital the work they did was.

It was after one such piece of vital work ended in a firefight that the Doctor decided that the humans would have to be taught to defend themselves properly. The fact that the Doctor had been forced to take a laser beam instead of Lee, regenerating into a woman with short, mouse-brown hair and a perpetual frown line between her eyebrows, had only made that fact more clear.

“What should I teach them first, Arkytior,” she said, “firearms or Venusian aikido?”

“Why don’t you start with hand-to-hand, Gran?” Arkytior said, sitting cross legged beside the mats that the TARDIS had seen fit to give them for their training room. She looked far too amused by the situation. “That’s how you started on me, after all.”

“I started on you when you were too young to hold up a gun,” the Doctor pointed out.

“Well, I’d rather have whatever you think would be more useful,” Lee said quickly. The Doctor had to restrain herself from glaring at him. Since her regeneration, Lee had been strangely unargumentative and eager to please. She couldn’t tell whether he was still shaken from his near miss or he had some kind of problem with her latest face, but either way she was sick and tired of it.

This regeneration, Arkytior had noted within minutes of her battlefield regeneration, had a temper.

“Firearms first then,” the Doctor said. “I know you like to think you can fistfight a Dalek, but you’ll be better served keeping your distance.”

“It’s better than just accepting my fate, anyways,” Lee said philosophically. “Still, I’d be glad to be the one doing the fighting and not having you bailing me out again.”

“Sadly, I doubt you will ever reach the point where I won’t have to bail you out,” the Doctor said. “I have 400 years on you, Lee, not to mention experience in war. Don’t you forget that.”

“I’m not about to,” said Lee. “I just don’t want you dying for me, you know,  _ again _ . That’s all.” The Doctor glared at him suspiciously, but she decided not to press the issue.

“Bill,” she said instead, “this,” she picked up a hefty weapon, “is a Jezarite blaster. And this,” she turned and threw an even larger gun at Lee, “is a laser rifle, Gallifreyan Fleet standard. You will both be expected to hit a moving target at fifty paces with 95% accuracy when your training is through.”

“Has anyone ever told you that your Gran is scary?” Bill muttered to Arkytior as the Doctor reconfigured the training room into a shooting range.

“She certainly scares Gallifrey,” Arkytior said with a smug sort of pride in her voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you run drills. I had the same training, after all.”

* * *

Getting their human companions up to Gallifreyan Fleet standard took far less time, the Doctor reflected, when she didn’t have to faff about with any of the more intellectual bits. She’d never been a particularly good student at the Academy, and her attempts to teach Arkytior all she would need to know had been painful at best. She had always been a person of action, and she’d take running drills to lecturing on fifth dimensional mathematics any day of the week.

It wasn’t the same as training them up to be soldiers, she told herself, though the excuse seemed weaker with every new session. This was self-defense, completely different and completely necessary.

That excuse shattered completely once Bill got her first kill.

It had been a routine stop to a resource outpost gone wrong, and all because of the bloody Judoon. If the Daleks were the only species that fought against the Gallifreyans that the Doctor truly hated, the Judoon were their chief collaborators. Not all of them, of course, not the entire species, but they might as well have been. The Judoon had been a police dictatorship as far back as her timesense could reach, and any dissenters in their ranks were dealt with by firing squad. If there was a Judoon that wasn’t working alongside the Gallifreyan Empire, they didn’t live long.

The Doctor was usually skilled at finding resource outposts without military or police presence. This was obviously not one of those times. To make matters worse, her own laser pistol had run out of charge before they made their way back to the TARDIS, and only Bill’s quick thinking and perfect aim had prevented her from facing another regeneration barely six months after the first. The Doctor had turned to congratulate her, but Bill had looked horribly shaken. It was only a few seconds later that she gave in and puked.

And now the human was sulking.

Arkytior had intended to take care of those human emotions at first. The Doctor was turning a blind eye, and had been for months, but there was no doubt now that her granddaughter and the human were at the very least sexually involved, with a probable romantic relationship. It would end in tears, of that she had no doubt, but she couldn’t bring herself to do the right thing and put Bill back where she had come from before Susan became too attached. But an hour later Arkytior had come back from the human’s room with a troubled look on her face and told the Doctor that Bill had asked for her.

Well, she couldn’t really deny her that, could she?

The Doctor knocked on the door of Bill’s room, a lesson that had been taught by hard-won and horribly awkward experience. At the human’s muffled “come in,” the Doctor entered, marvelling once again at what the TARDIS had decided to bring about. She hadn’t been aware, before the humans, that the TARDIS was capable of anything but the cold, utilitarian architecture of Gallifrey. Her assumptions had been proven wrong when the TARDIS had grown a cosy, wood-paneled bedroom with a fireplace for Lee and a bright, sea-green one for Bill, complete with huge windows that seemed to look out on a different planet every time the Doctor was forced to visit.

“Arkytior said that you wanted to see me,” the Doctor said. “Well?” Bill looked up at her from where she was lying on the bed, seemingly startled despite the knocking. The white parts of her eyes were shot through with red, presumably from crying.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I-” She swallowed, blinked rapidly, and then seemed to collect herself. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” The Doctor didn’t know what to say to that, so she stayed silent. “I’d never killed anyone before.”

“Obviously.”

“And I don’t - Even if that rhino guy was trying to kill us, he’s still a person, right? It was still wrong to murder-”

“Child, he was trying to kill all four of us. Under those circumstances, using lethal force to defend yourself can hardly be considered murder.”

“I mean, he was just sort of doing his job, wasn’t he?”

“If you haven’t grasped it yet, we are at  _ war _ with his lot.”

“You’ve never said why.” The Doctor pursed her lips, the frown line between her eyebrows growing deeper. “For all I know, you could be the bad guy here.”

“I’ve never claimed to be the ‘good guy,’” the Doctor said, voice twisting sarcastically around the inverted commas. “I’ve done horrible things in my lifetime. I’ve watched as worlds burned and civilizations were lost in time. Often enough, I was the one pulling the trigger. You would be wrong to look to me for any sort of moral superiority, not after everything I willingly participated in.” Doctor let the words hang there for a moment, allowing the weight of them to be felt fully. “And I did it all for the glory of Gallifrey.” Bill’s mouth dropped open.

“ _ No _ ,” she said.

“Why are you so surprised? You knew what species Arkytior and I are, you knew who we are fighting against.”

“But then why would you leave after - after all that?”

“What do you mean?” the Doctor said.

“I mean, if you did all that you said, if you - you burned civilizations to the ground or whatever, what the hell would someone like you see as too far? What would make you start fighting against them?”

“Nothing more or less than the most selfish motive in the book,” the Doctor said. “Arkytior is very unusual, even for our species, and they were going to experiment on her,  _ torture _ her. I decided to put a stop to it. Missy was the one to turn my decision into a crusade against the Gallifreyan Empire, and I followed her lead by turning our attention to protecting the so-called lesser species.” And they  _ were _ so-called, the Doctor was surprised to realize. Humans may have been mere three-dimensional beings, may be unable to even dream of having power and reach of the Gallifreyan Empire, but they were not somehow naturally lesser. Given the proper training they were as clever and capable as any Academy graduate, and better than that they were  _ kind _ . They were kind and curious and  _ better _ , in all those intangible, unaccountable ways, than any of those who called themselves the Lords of Time.

“How?” Bill said, but she didn’t sound horrified anymore. “How could you - After everything, how could you choose to do something like that?” The Doctor shrugged.

“I changed my mind,” she said. “I changed my mind and, well, and then I kept changing it. I kept choosing to help a rebellion, fight some Judoon, save a life. I haven’t done it right, but I hope I can say that I’ve done it right enough.” She gave Bill a nod of acknowledgement. “If you want to leave, I can put you back on Earth, far enough from your starting place and time that you’ll be safe. I won’t try to stop you, although I will warn you that Arkytior probably will.”

“And if I want to make a different choice?” Bill said.

“That is certainly an option as well.”

* * *

“Bill told me what you told her,” Lee said. 

“And?” the Doctor said. She had considered being annoyed. It had taken decades for her love for Arkytior to overrule her shame, and now these humans got to see every sordid piece of her after barely a year. In the end, she decided that she would rather have the two gossiping than going through that awkward conversation again with Lee.

“Well, I, uh, I just wanted to say,” Lee cleared his throat and reached out to give her arm a squeeze, “I’m proud of you, Doctor. For what it’s worth.” She blinked at him, baffled.

“Why?”

“It takes a big sort of person to change like that.”

“Then you’d be better served speaking with Missy. She’s the one who really changed, I just… muddled along, as I always have.”

“Maybe that’s so,” Lee said, “but it’s something, and it’s more than some people do in their lives.”

“Yes,” said the Doctor, “but I had centuries.” Satisfaction seeped guiltily through the self-recrimination when she saw that Lee didn’t really have an argument for that.

* * *

There were rust-colored stains on the floor of the cell.

The Doctor tried to concentrate on that, just that. Concentrate on the color, on the placement. Concentrate on the way the light glanced off the bits that were still sticky. If she looked directly at Arkytior,  _ her _ Arkytior, she was going to do something that… well, not that she’d regret, but that Arkytior or Lee or Bill would disapprove of, and their disappointment was just about the last thing she wanted to face..

At least they had been captured by the Judoon rather than the Time Lords. At least they had been captured by someone who had no idea just how valuable to Gallifrey Arkytior was. That meant there was a chance that, if she managed to do something clever, they could both escape together rather than having to run about an enemy spaceship.

“Bet you’re regretting not giving Bill and Lee those TARDIS lessons now,” Arkytior said. She was trying to be flippant, cheerful. The Doctor wanted to be sick. “Gran, look at me.  _ Talk _ to me.”

“I’m going to get us out of this, Arkytior,” the Doctor said, though she had no plan. “You’re going to be fine, just trust me.”

“I always trust you, Gran,” Arkytior said, sounding surprisingly sincere for someone who had just been tortured because of her involvement with the renegade of Gallifrey. 

“When they come back,” the Doctor said, “I want you to say that I’m the only one with all the locations of Missy’s rebellion.”

“But-” 

“I need their attention to be on me. I have a plan- Well, I have some of a plan.”

“Venusian aikido?”

“How did you guess?”

“Because Venusian aikido is your answer to everything where the answer doesn’t involve the words ‘sonic’ and ‘screwdriver,’” Arkytior said.

“And as you might notice, we have not been killed yet, so my plans must have some merit.”

“Merit my ass,” Arkytior muttered. She really had been learning the most shocking things from Bill. The Doctor chose to ignore her, fiddling with the electrocuffs that kept her hands firmly behind her back. She would have one shot at this, and she wasn’t about to be defeated because of something as simple to slip from as electrocuffs.

Out in the hallway there was a loud thump. Arkytior perked up, and the Doctor prepared for whoever might have made that noise to enter their cell. The lock clicked and the door slid open soundlessly to reveal Lee and Bill. Lee seemed to have encountered some trouble, since he was bleeding from his scalp, but he still grinned as he tossed the Doctor her sonic screwdriver.

“Whatever happened to ‘your weapon is your life,’ Doctor?” he said. She frowned, trying to remember if she had ever said anything like that. “Star Wars?”

“Oh, come on,” Bill said. “She wouldn’t have watched the prequels up in space anyways.”

“Hey, I liked the prequels.” Bill looked ready to argue the point further, but the barked orders and heavy footsteps of the Judoon were coming closer. The Doctor used her sonic to release Arkytior’s electrocuffs and carefully helped her granddaughter to her feet. Even for a Time Lord, blood loss took time to recover from, and Arkytior had endured no little blood loss this time.

“Did you bring a transmat?”

“We tried, but there’s something here interfering with electronics,” Lee said, holding up the dead transmat to demonstrate.

“Bollocks,” the Doctor hissed. Arkytior opened her mouth, probably to tease about her using such a human expression, but the Doctor cut whatever she meant to say off at the quick. “Alright, here’s the plan. Bill, you take Arkytior. I’ll take point, Lee will bring up the rear. Don’t hesitate to shoot if necessary, but we want to attract as little attention as possible. Where’s the TARDIS?”

“One deck up,” Bill said, taking Arkytior’s weight from the Doctor.

“Fine. Lee, how’s the charge on your phaser pistol?”

“Still got three quarters charge here,” Lee said, patting the gun on his hip.

“Good. Is all understood?”

“Why can’t I take point?” Bill said.

“Because you won’t regenerate if you catch a bullet.” Bill looked ready to make some ridiculous argument, not that there was a reasonable argument to be found for a human taking the most perilous position over a Time Lord. “Right. Lee, look sharp.” Lee nodded at her, and she turned to the long expanse of hallway that lay between them and their TARDIS.

She knew that if any Judoon ambushed them from behind, Lee would cover them or die trying. It was the strangest, strongest sort of trust.

* * *

“How old is Arkytior, really?” Lee asked her, near the beginning of the TARDIS night cycle. “In terms of humans, I mean.”

“I don’t quite follow,” the Doctor said. “There are many metrics by which you could measure our spans. In terms of your years, she would be around 150.”

“150?” Lee yelped. The Doctor studied him for a moment.

“Ah,” she said. “This is about sex.” Lee flushed tomato red.

“Not just- that,” he said. “But her relationship with Bill, yeah. I mean, she’s, well, old doesn’t even cover it, and Bill’s an adult but she’s not-” He cut himself off, going an even deeper, almost purple color. “Anyways, you’re her grandparent! How much older must you be?”

“Oh, I’m well into my 400s,” the Doctor said. Lee sputtered. “Don’t look so shocked. You know that I’ve had bodies before this one, three in fact. Each Time Lord is granted 12 regenerations by the High Council. If you’re lucky, each body will last several millennia by your reckoning.”

“I, uh,” Lee cleared his throat, “I take it you haven’t been so lucky, then?”

“I’ve been on the run from the Gallifreyan Empire since shortly before I was 300. It would have been a miracle if I was.”

“And what does that mean, eh?” Lee said. “Being - Being old enough to be a grandparent, but not even supposed to have gone through half of your first life.” The Doctor considered her answer for a moment, fiddling uselessly with a convenient toggle on the TARDIS console.

“It’s different, I think, from how you humans think of it,” she said at last. “Arkytior is still- by anyone’s standards she’s young. You don’t graduate from the Academy or get assigned a mate before you’ve seen a century, sometimes longer. Time Lords develop slowly compared to most species.”

“So she really is around Bill’s age,” Lee said.

“Perhaps. She’s seen so much, far more than I had at her age, so perhaps she is more mature than the average 150-year-old. Still, she is - she’s so young.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“How old are you? In human terms, I mean.” The Doctor shrugged.

“I’m not old yet,” she said. “But I am far from young, really. I have certainly seen and done more than many Gallifreyans manage, for all their millennia of experience. I will die my last time absurdly young for my species, but in everything else… Perhaps around 40 years in human terms? It is difficult to guess.”

“I’m 40,” Lee said. The Doctor carefully did not seek his gaze.

“Well,” she said, “it is all theoretical anyways. The point is that comparing the span of a human to the span of a Time Lord isn’t done. There isn’t a point.”

“Whether there’s a point or not, I have to thank you for answering my questions.” Lee was smiling in a satisfied sort of way. The Doctor wrinkled her nose at him.

“Glad to be of help,” she said, not quite knowing what to make of his inquiries. Whatever it was, she could at least be content in knowing that he’d gotten whatever he wanted.

* * *

Missy wanted to see her in person.

It had been over a century since they’d last seen each other face to face. The Doctor had changed faces three times, Missy only the once. They had both gone up against the might of Gallifrey, though it be only in a small way.

The Doctor could sense that this wasn’t going to be in a small way.

She hadn’t wanted Arkytior, Bill, and Lee to come with her. This would be dangerous, things with Missy always were, and the signs pointed towards this mission being more dangerous than most. She had urged Arkytior to take the humans to a different time and place, perhaps a nice relaxing pleasure planet in the days before it would be razed by the Gallifreyan Empire, anywhere where they could stay and not be in harm’s way. Arkytior had refused, of course. So had the humans, though the Doctor knew that they had no idea what they were agreeing to.

“We’re in, Doctor,” Bill said. “I mean, if you were going to dump us a few years past where we started, you’d have done it already.”

“I could still put you there, you know,” the Doctor grumbled.

“Face it, Doctor, you’re stuck with us now,” Lee said. 

“This isn’t going to be like the other missions,” the Doctor said.

“How so?” said Lee. The Doctor shook her head, choosing not to answer. She had her suspicions, but she wouldn’t give voice to them just yet.

Missy had chosen to meet on an insignificant little moon that circled a gas giant, far too inhospitable and remote to be of much interest to the Gallifreyan Empire and its allies. There were many of these sorts of locations known to Missy’s resistance - though few knew as many of them as the Doctor.

“Isn’t Magnus with you?” the Doctor said as she stepped out onto the frozen, barren rocks to meet Missy, Arkytior and the humans trailing behind her.

“I left him behind,” Missy said contemptuously. “He’s a liability at this stage, far too volatile. This sort of thing requires a deft touch.” She studied the Doctor, and the smug mask slipped slightly. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Missy,” the Doctor said. The Mistress’s gaze slid over to the three beings behind her.

“Hello, Arkytior,” she said. “I see you’ve brought your pets.”

“What?” Lee said. “We’re not pets!”

“Real charming friend you’ve got there, Doctor,” Bill said.

“They’re trained,” the Doctor said. “I’ve given them the same training in warfare we got at the Academy. They know how to handle themselves.”

“Having a few more bodies would make things easier on you,” Missy said. “And it would be delicious to bring about the fall of Gallifrey using two of the lesser beings it sought to exterminate or bring to heel.”

“Just tell me what the plan is, Koschei,” the Doctor said. “It’s cold as hell out here.”

“That certainly isn’t a Time Lord’s phrasing, cold as hell,” Missy said. The Doctor shrugged.

“You’re the one who’s always pushed me to commit. I’m committed.”

“Good,” Missy said. “You’ll need to be.”

“Are they always this dramatic,” Bill muttered to Arkytior, and Lee gave a poorly hidden snort.

“Always,” Arkytior muttered back, sounding pained.

“Enough of this,” the Doctor snapped. “Koschei, why don’t you want to tell me what you have brewing in your brain?”

“Because,” Missy said, “you won’t like it.”

“Yes, well, I  _ got _ that.”

“I saw the way you looked when I had Magnus attack the Capital. You were horrified.”

“There are innocents on Gallifrey,” the Doctor said with a shrug. Missy raised an eyebrow. “Not many innocents, but enough. There are children for whom the war is but a fairy tale; there are farmers and builders who have never touched the controls of a Battle TARDIS.”

“That may be so,” said Missy, “but you cannot deny the devastation that Gallifrey has caused. There may be a few who don’t deserve to die, but the planet itself is seeped in the blood of its own and of the lesser species. For any justice to be done, Gallifrey must burn.” The Doctor shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut against the words that her old friend spoke. “If you see another path, Doctor, please tell me,” Missy said, bitter sarcasm darkening her voice. “But I must confess I see no other option.”

“Gran?” Arkytior said, and damn it why did she have to sound so young, so hopeful? Why couldn’t she come to this horrifying conclusion on her own?

“No,” said the Doctor. “No, you’re right.”

“You can’t be serious!” Bill burst out.

“The Gallifreyan Empire is too strong. If we don’t kill it at the root, it will always be a threat.”

“You can’t believe that,” Lee said with a certainty the Doctor wished she could feel. “Doctor, that’s  _ your _ planet, your  _ home _ .”

“So?” said the Doctor with as much coldness as she could muster. “I made my choice a long time ago. Before it was Arkytior or Gallifrey, and I chose Arkytior. Now it’s just bigger, much bigger. Gallifrey or the universe, and I’ll choose the universe every time.”

“No, there’s got to be another way,” Lee said.

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” Missy said. “I’ve hijacked Gallifreyan airwaves to make speeches against Rassilon until my voice was gone; I leaked every dirty secret the Empire ever had. Nobody cares, or at least they don’t care enough to give up their cushy little position as the chief murderers in the universe. That is the reality of what we’re dealing with here.”

“What about the Timeless Children?” the Doctor said. “They’re the reason you were angry enough to start this-”

“I didn’t start this, Theta, you did, you and your useless compassion.” Missy sounded more fond than anything else. “As for the Timeless Children, well, that’s where you come in.”

* * *

Sneaking back to Gallifrey, jumping between time periods to evade capture, coming into the planet’s orbit around its sun just in time to catch the edge of Gallifrey’s atmosphere, they pulled it all off far better than the Doctor could have anticipated. The whole plan was ridiculous and foolhardy, but when Missy had given her a way to save at least some of them the Doctor had to try. 

This was the mission that had ended with her stealing a TARDIS and fleeing Gallifrey. She wouldn’t fail again; she  _ couldn’t _ .

“Alright, Doctor?” Lee said. She shook herself from her thoughts.

“Don’t get distracted,” she said, almost wincing at how clipped she sounded to her own ears. Lee didn’t deserve her temper, but she felt as though she was on the edge between explosion and hysteria. “If we don’t fool them here, we won’t even get close.”

“We know the plan, Gran,” Arkytior said soothingly, and the Doctor grimaced. 

“I realize that,” she said, “but I don’t want any funny business, and I don’t want any mistakes. If any of you three get yourselves captured-” She broke off and shook her head. “Just don’t do it.”

“Gran…” Arkytior squeezed her arm, and the Doctor tried to give her an encouraging sort of smile. “We’ll be fine. It’s us.”

“Yes,” said the Doctor, “but this is Gallifrey. You haven’t faced anything like  _ them _ before, and quite rightly too.”

“Concentrate on getting the kids out,” said Lee. “You don’t have to worry about us.” He looked like he wanted to do or say more, but in the end he went back to his place at the console, and just in time as well. The com button was blinking red.

“Gallifrey, this is Battle TARDIS 7137-Epsilon requesting permission to dock,” the Doctor said, slipping into the voice and cadence of Theta Sigma without even thinking. Arkytior and both the humans glanced over at her, startled, but the Doctor ignored them.

“T-7137-Epsilon, you are cleared to dock at Alpha-D-Rho-27.”

“Thank you, Gallifrey. Epsilon out.” She hung up the com. “Alright, Arkytior, guide us down.”

“Got it, Gran.”

“I’ll take point. Lee, take the rear. Everyone’s spares charged?” The other three beings in the TARDIS nodded at her. “Alright.”

“Docking in 30 seconds,” Arkytior said. For a moment the Doctor simply stood, waiting for them to touch down on the dock, feeling her hearts forcing the blood through her veins, and then the TARDIS ground to a halt and they were off. 

The path to where the Timeless Children were held was horrifyingly familiar, found more on instinct than on the maps that Missy had painstakingly smuggled off of Gallifrey and passed along to her. The lift felt, if anything, slower and more nerve wracking than when Koschei and Thete had taken it over a century before.

They were in luck. Gallifrey had obviously not been expecting them this time. The Timeless Children, some three dozen of them, were there.

They stared at her, some of them hopeful and some of them afraid and some of them just listless, and the Doctor tried to concentrate on herding them toward the lift. Arkytior and Bill moved to cover their right and left, but the simple truth was that they didn’t have enough people to do this with any degree of safety. In the hallway, alarms were blaring, and the Doctor could tell that they were going to be cutting it close no matter how hard they tried.

She took a sharp turn, heading for the stairs instead. They would  _ not _ be leaving any of the children behind.

Even when the Time Lords followed them into the stairwell, they couldn’t move nearly fast enough, not with three dozen children to tow. The Doctor forced herself to not look back as the sound of a laser rifle echoed through the stairwell with a deafening bang. One of the children right behind her tripped, and she hauled them up again, ignoring their pained yelp. They were close, so close.

Three more shots. “ _ Fuck _ ,” Bill swore. The Doctor came to a landing, not the floor she’d wanted but it would do, and threw open the door. One of the children screamed, but the Doctor was too distracted with urging them onwards to notice why.

Outside the window was something like her nightmares. The Mistress had come back with her Battle TARDIS, and Gallifrey’s capital was once again being attacked by the rogue Time Lady. This time was different, however, the Doctor could see that clearly enough. This time there would be no rebuilding, no mercy. This was the combination of sonic and physical bombardment that had destroyed other civilizations so many times, that the Gallifreyan Empire had perfected, and now it was being turned against its creators.

“Don’t look,” she barked at a few of the children, the ones who had frozen in awe or horror. She looked around, desperate for another sort of escape. There: a short-range transmat platform, only meant for moving one or two Time Lords around the gigantic building, but it would have to do. Best of all, it was near the end of a hallway. She locked the few doors around the transmat platform with her sonic and began the task of herding as many children as possible onto the platform.

“Lee, I need you to go with these first six and cover them,” she said. Lee gave her a curt nod, wading through the children to the platform. She unclipped her spare charge from her belt. “Here. You’ll probably need this. I’m going to get you as close as possible to the TARDIS, but when you get another six I need you to get the first dozen to safety.”

“But-”

“It’s better to save a dozen than lose them all because you need to playact at being a damn hero,” the Doctor snapped. “Go! I’ll send Bill and Arkytior after you.”

“Fine.” He still didn’t look happy, but the Doctor couldn’t indulge him right now. She found the transmat closest to Alpha-D-Rho-27 and sent the first six children and one of her humans off. 

“Next six!” she barked, and then she sent them off as well. Overloading the system this many times was risky, but she couldn’t imagine them holding off the security guards for long. “Bill, you’re going to be next!” Bill made her way back to her, having caught on to what the Doctor’s plan was.

“Doctor, if there are too many on the other side-”

“Then you fight,” the Doctor said. “That is all.”

“No. I mean,” Bill gave her a quick hug, “that’s what I wanted to say.” She joined the third half-dozen on the transmat platform and disappeared with the press of a button.

“Arkytior, switch with me,” she said. “You know what to do.”

“Gran…” The Doctor shook her head. All three of her companions had expressed their doubts, whether because of a fear of what lay on the other side of the transmat or a fear for her safety, but this was the only way. 

She hadn’t felt this certain of anything for  _ centuries _ , not since she had begun to doubt the glory of Gallifrey, but  _ this  _ was where she was meant to be. Hearing the faint sound of the transmat behind her as Arkytior sent the last few of the children to safety, facing what had turned into half an army of guards, ready to die at any moment. She sent out pulse after pulse, barely registering how the Time Lords fell and shook with the effort of sudden regeneration before her. If she was hit, she would be captured, her torture and execution absolutely guarenteed, but she felt no hint of hesitation and had no time for fear.

She wasn’t running anymore.

Of course, she had to back up onto the transmat eventually, had to follow her granddaughter and her humans, but that was different. Before she had run to preserve her own life and that of her granddaughter, a wholly selfish motive. Now she didn’t so much as run from danger as into another she knew not of. They would be facing more guards on the other end of the transmat, of that she was certain. She’d get them to safety or be regenerated and captured trying.

She didn’t even register the pain until she had already gone through the transmat. The Doctor held her side and wavered, blinking against the bright bleeding pain. She glanced down and saw blood on the ground, and that was when she knew that she would regenerate once again, and soon too.

She would have to make every second of this body count, then.

The Doctor heaved up her laser rifle and began to jog in the direction of the yelling and the screaming and the sounds of laser fire, in the direction of the TARDIS. She turned into the large docking area to see Bill and Arkytior fighting desperately. The guards were standing between them and the TARDIS. She threw herself into the fray. 

“Hello, hello, hello!” she said. “Yes, Lords and Ladies, it’s me.” The laser fire instantly turned to her, and she ducked behind the thick dock doors. “I suppose you’re wondering why I decided to come back after all these years,” she yelled over the sound of the shooting. “I mean, I am a rogue, after all. I’m the renegade. By all rights I should have buggered off and never been seen again until I decided to get myself regenerated.”

“Come out and surrender yourself, traitor!” a guard, obviously one of the dimmer ones, shouted back at her.

“You know what, I don’t think I will!” the Doctor said. The pain made her voice go all high and breathless. It sounded almost like exhilaration to her ears. “I don’t think I will ever do anything you say again! Because Gallifrey? Your little empire of time and space? It’s  _ over _ ! You’ve lost!” Her pained breaths turned into laughter.

“By the cloak of Rassilon, she’s crazier than the Mistress,” a guard said.

“Maybe so,” said the Doctor, “but I’ll bet that you didn’t notice the rest of your precious Timeless Research Subjects going into my TARDIS.” Half the guards turned, and that was when the TARDIS disappeared with a whoosh. A few of them cursed, and the Doctor could only giggle hysterically as she stumbled backwards and her shoulders hit that familiar wood. 

She grinned even wider at that. It seemed that the TARDIS had decided to use the cloak of her favorite lesser species to rescue her. 

“Bye-bye,” she trilled out mockingly as the door of the TARDIS opened behind her and small hands pulled her inside. She felt the old ship tremble beneath her as she fell to the ground and they escaped into the Time Vortex.

“Doctor!” That was Lee. She looked up from where she had collapsed, vision swimming. “Doctor, it’s Bill, she-”

“Help me up,” the Doctor ground out. She clutched her side with one arm as Lee hauled her up by her other. She could already feel the first stages of her regeneration at the edges of the wound, but she ruthlessly forced the energy down deep inside her. She couldn’t regenerate, not yet, not when they needed her at the top of her game and not addled by regeneration sickness. She leaned on Lee, limping her way through the children who littered the console room and over to where Arkytior was bent over Bill.

She could already tell that the brave, stupid human wouldn’t make it.

“Lee, make the jumps we discussed,” she said with a sigh.

“Are you sure you’re-”

“Just do it! We need to get the children to-” To what? To safety? Even if all the jumps went according to plan, if Missy’s bombardment didn’t go according to plan they would be found at one point in time or another. “And I can’t protect them, not in a new body, not with regeneration sickness.” That much was true at least.

“Gran, do something!” Arkytior said, almost yelled. The TARDIS shifted into the first jump they had plotted out.

“Arkytior, she’s dying. Let her go.”

“No, no, I’m not like you, I’m going to save her.” A bright white light was beginning to shine in Arkytior’s eyes, something that the Doctor had never seen before. Another shift, second jump.

“Arkytior, you can’t heal that. We can find something, find a painkiller, but-”

“I am the Timeless Child,” Arkytior said, and something was shifting in her voice, something terrible in the old, awe-filled sense of the word.

“You can’t fight death, not like this.”

“Who says? You barely know what being a Timeless Child is, you  _ couldn’t  _ know.” The threads of Time twisted and warped around her granddaughter, and the Doctor had to close her eyes against the nauseating sense of Time  _ changing _ , being turned on paths that should never have been trodden. Bill’s thread ought to have cut off here, in this moment, but she continued on, brought out of the course of the universe by the one great anomaly.

One last shift, and the TARDIS ground to a halt. “Lee, get them out, get them out!” the Doctor gasped out. There were running footsteps and protests and finally,  _ finally _ the door closed and locked. The Doctor couldn’t hold it in anymore. The energy she had clamped down burst inside her, turning her cells to molten gold and shifting them, changing them. She screamed, consumed in fire more potent than any phoenix’s flame.

And then it was over. She opened new eyes to see Lee crouched near her, but she didn’t have time to study him. Arkytior wasn’t just glowing through her eyes anymore. Every pore was overcome by blinding light, light that bent and hammered the huge hole in Bill’s chest.

“Arkytior, you can’t- Let her-” Arkytior turned that gaze to her, and it was like the Doctor was looking into a sun and a black hole at the same time. The thing before her was barely her granddaughter, and yet she couldn’t look away. “Arkytior,  _ please _ .”

“Gran, I understand now,” she said, sounding as though a thousand beings lay in her one voice. “I understand where you have to go. There are so many universes, so many places for you to be safe.”

“Arkytior-”

“It’s Susan, Gran. I’m taking Bill with me, so I’m choosing to be Susan.”

“Where are you going?”

“A better place,” Susan said with an all-knowing smile. “Not where you’re going, the multiverse still has plans for you. But, oh, I can see it, Gran, and it’s so beautiful.”

“What’s going on?” said Lee. “What’s happening?”

“Don’t worry,” said Susan. “I’ll put you where you’re needed. You’ll like it there, I promise.” The Doctor stared into her granddaughter’s eyes, full of the knowledge of the Timeless Children, and she knew there was only one possible response.

“Do it,” she said. Susan grinned, the grin she used to give as a child of only 50, and she seemed to shine even brighter. Then the TARDIS lurched, the Doctor’s time sense screamed, and Susan disappeared with Bill in a burst of light. The Doctor reeled for a moment, clawing at the metal grating, trying to regain her sense of equilibrium.

The Timeless Children could travel through dimensions. Ushas’ suspicions had been right all along.

“Where are we, Doctor?” Lee said. The Doctor sucked in a deep breath and opened her eyes.

“Gloucester, 2005,” she said, “and we have 15 years before the end of the universe.”


End file.
